


Breaking Point

by flootzavut



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, F/M, Kibbs, Romance, season two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2018-09-19 17:11:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9451757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flootzavut/pseuds/flootzavut
Summary: Kate's fidgeting, Gibbs is distracted, and neither of them expects such a simple, everyday thing to have such a big impact on their lives.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The start of this would've been posted months if not years ago (I don't remember exactly, but it's been a while) if it hadn't been languishing under the working title "ants in pants"...
> 
> Set sometime in S2, after Tim has joined the team, but that's as specific as it gets.

* * *

_**Breaking Point** _

* * *

_**  
** _

She's fidgeting again, and it's driving him  _nuts_.

He's not sure what possessed him to think putting Kate at the desk right in his line of sight was a good idea, but some days he could curse himself for it.

In fairness, most of the time he appreciates having a beautiful woman to look at - hey, come on, he's only human - when he needs a distraction from whatever he's working on. He might feel bad about it if she ever seemed to mind, but the times she's caught him watching her, she's just tilted a curious smile at him and gone back to her work. He figures Kate being Kate, if she had a serious problem with it, she'd've threatened (who's he kidding? Not threatened, promised) to castrate him with her paper knife. He feels fairly confident she doesn't mind.

Today, though, the distraction is of entirely the wrong kind. He's really, really trying to concentrate on the deadly boring pile of paperwork that is a byproduct of this line of work, but Kate apparently having ants in her pants (well, she's wearing a skirt, so metaphorically speaking), shifting around, tapping her feet, chewing her pen... it's giving him hives.

Actually, it would arguably be better if it was giving him hives, but what it's really doing is drawing attention to her legs when she twists around in her chair, and to the rest of her when she stretches, folds her arms under her breasts and pouts (and those are two things he'll admit he really enjoys, but which are hella distracting), or generally fidgets like Tony put itching powder in her panties.

(Not that Gibbs is thinking about her underwear. Or the rest of today's outfit. Which he absolutely hasn't noticed and which does not have double starred status in a mental list of 'outfits which make Kate look particularly edible'. He's not Tony, after all.)

(The idea Tony might've gotten close enough to her underwear to apply itching powder? Now there's an idea that really does give Gibbs hives.)

Eventually he's had enough. He pushes himself up from his desk so violently his chair hits the back of his cubicle. "Kate, with me."

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see she's startled, which isn't surprising. After all, the fact they're all sitting around on their backsides doing paperwork is a direct result of having no hot cases, so it's not as if they've anywhere to rush off to.

However, Kate is a quick learner, and while she might sometimes be an insubordinate little madam (not to mention giving as good as she gets as well as being a knowitall and pain in his ass, all of which qualities he secretly loves), it's been a good long while since she responded to that tone of voice with anything but complete and rapid obedience. He doesn't have to look over his shoulder to know she's right on his heels. He slaps the call button for the elevator impatiently. Miraculously, they have to wait a mere five seconds for it to appear.

He glances down at her as they get in, at how she's stood so neat and prim, her hands folded behind her, her spine straight and tall, her head held high, and wonders, not for the first time, if she's always this proper and put together and  _damned uptight_  - whether she ever lets her hair down and goes wild.

If there's anyone in her life who can make her scream.

(Admittedly, although he likes to think about Kate losing control, he's not too keen on imagining who might make her lose it. On the one hand, maybe she never does just let loose, which is kind of a sad thought when it comes to a beautiful young woman who deserves, Gibbs is sure, all the good things she could want in life, including but not limited to laughing until she cries and coming so hard she blacks out. On the other hand, he's jealous of any man who gets to witness either of those events, so he does his best to ignore all evidence of Kate dating, and selfishly hopes the men she does go out with are losers who couldn't provoke either reaction in her. The fact she never seems to date them for more than a few weeks at a time kind of suggests they are.)

He hasn't quite decided on his game plan when the doors close, but it takes only a few seconds more for him to decide elevator conversations are a timeless classic and to thump the emergency brake.

She looks up at him, startled again, eyes wide. "What...?"

Kate questions and doubts and generally talks back to him more often and more vigorously than almost any agent he's ever been (supposedly) in charge of. It's way more amusing than it should be to see her reduced to a confused monosyllable.

He ruthlessly stamps on the urge to laugh, and instead closes in on the matter in hand. "What the hell's wrong with you today, Kate?"

She blinks. "I- what?"

"You got ants in your pants or something?" Oops. He meant to pick a better metaphor, considering the (rather well fitted) skirt she's wearing, but being in an enclosed space with a beautiful, off-limits woman is not conducive to his best work when it comes to talking. And his best work in this arena is not so great in the first place. "You been fidgeting like a school kid all day."  _And it's driving me up the fucking wall, and you need to stop before I engage in red light behaviour_.

Kate turns pink. "Oh. Sorry."

He closes his eyes for a second. He's long since given up trying to make her quit apologising all the time, but it still makes him want to shake her. "Don't be sorry, just... stop."

Her cheeks turn a darker pink and she looks down at her feet.

He frowns slightly. "Is there something wrong?"

He does his best not to do the whole 'caring boss' schtick with Kate. The moment he does anything remotely nice for her she tends to  _glow_  in his direction and it makes him want to do more nice things for her, and renders him borderline incapable of ordering her around or putting her in harm's way. Considering their line of business, that's a pretty serious problem. But she looks genuinely contrite, and it's a problem if she's hiding something major from him, too.

After a moment, she shakes her head. It's entirely unconvincing.

"Kate."

She heaves a sigh. "I'm just... a little distracted."

_That makes two of us_ , he thinks, somewhat sourly.

"It's nothing important. And I mean-" She looks up at him, all big eyes and downturned mouth and uncertainty. "It's just paperwork, after all."

He resists - just - the urge to grab and shake her. (Or kiss her.) "It's paperwork right now, Kate. But a case could come up any moment, and I need you-" He pauses accidentally, and her eyes go wider. He realises how it came out and hurries to finish the sentence, attempting to rebuild some distance between them. "I need you to be focused, Agent Todd, not distracted or daydreaming about your boyfriend or-"

He really doesn't think that through properly before it tumbles out of his mouth, and when he looks at her in the silence caused by him thinking  _Oh shit, I should not have gone there_ , the sad eyes and sad mouth and sad uncertainty have gone critical, and now he's just trying not to give in to the impulse to reach out and comfort her.

She suddenly seems to realise she's gotten herself into an emotionally vulnerable position, and looks down at her feet again.

At a loss what else to do, he sighs and pulls out his cell. "DiNozzo? Yeah, you're in charge till I get back. Do not torture McGee. Do not sit at my desk, use my computer or answer my phone." He glances at Kate, who is (possibly unconsciously) pulling a face. "And leave Agent Todd's things alone, too, we clear?"

He doesn't stick around to hear Tony's protestations of innocence, just snaps the phone closed, slaps the emergency brake again, and allows the elevator to continue its descent.

Kate shoots him a few 'What's going on?' looks, but since Gibbs himself has very little idea what he thinks he's doing, he chooses to pretend he hasn't seen or understood the messages she's telegraphing. He'll figure this out, hopefully before they've driven around the entire city, but in the meantime Kate doesn't need to know he's playing it entirely by ear, and neither does he need her distracting him from figuring it out by asking him what he's playing at when he doesn't have the beginnings of a clue.

Impulsively, he decides not to go to the parking garage after all, instead grabbing two cups of coffee from the machine (because beggars can't be choosers) and leading Kate out to a quiet bench surrounded by trees. He sits down and looks up at her expectantly, proffering the second cup of coffee as he takes a gulp of his own. It's almost deserted out here, since it's not lunchtime, and although it's a little chilly, the sun is shining and it's about as private and peaceful as they're gonna get.

She raises her eyebrows, but shrugs, taking the cup and sitting down next to him all the same. Close enough he can smell her perfume, far enough away so it's not unbearably tempting to reach out and touch her.

For several minutes they sit in silence, drinking the evil swill masquerading as coffee, and Gibbs makes no move to break it or even look at her. He can see her out the corner of his eye, and she seems to be relaxing a little as she drinks with measured, ladylike sips. It's a start. He might lack skills when it comes to talking or giving advice, but there are some things he can do. A bit of quiet, undemanding company to let her still her thoughts is well within his purview. And if having someone listen will help, here he is.

Eventually she takes a shaky breath, and when she speaks her voice is quiet, resigned rather than sad. "He broke up with me."

Well, clearly Mr Not Right was an imbecile, to dump Kate. Blind, clueless, lacking in any taste. "He broke your heart." He surprises himself by saying it at all, never mind as a statement rather than a question, as if he has any idea what's going on in Kate's love life. He probably has more idea than he should, but she doesn't need to know that, and he deliberately tries to stay out of the loop when it comes to details of who might be doing what to his Katie. None of his common sense is worth squat when it comes to wanting to kill any man who dares hurt her.

She's shaking her head. "No, he didn't break my heart. I broke his."

Gibbs tries to process this information, then glances sharply at her. "You broke his heart when he broke up with you?" Granted, he's not exactly Dear Abby here, but that sounds backassward.

There's another pause before she looks up, straight into his eyes. "No, I broke his heart, and it's why he broke up with me. I..." She shrugs. "I didn't mean to, I didn't realise, I didn't..."

Kate as a heartbreaker... well, that undeniably makes more sense.

He gets the impression she's struggling to find the right words. He keeps quiet, lets the silence coax them out of her.

"He figured out I was in love with someone else. Someone he couldn't... compete with." She looks down at the coffee cup in her hands, swirls the liquid around and around. "I was trying to- to get over... and I guess he thought I was just using him. I guess I was. But I didn't mean..." She sighs. "I didn't mean to hurt him."

"No point beatin' yourself up over it, Katie."

Her eyes meet his for a moment, and she smiles briefly. He realises too late he just called her Katie, but if it made her smile he can live with it.

"Why're you tryna get over someone by datin' Mr Wrong anyway? Can't tell me Mr Right turned you down, no way you'd fall in love with someone so stupid." Stupid. Idiotic. Colossally dumb. A complete loser, incapable of recognising when life dropped a winning ticket in his lap.

She shrugs a shoulder. "I didn't give him a chance to. No point."

"C'mon, Kate, what kinda idiot is gonna tell you 'No'?"

That gets him another quick grin and a touch of pink returning to her cheeks, but she shakes her head. "It's not... there are other factors." She pauses for a long moment, and when she speaks again her voice is even quieter. "Work related ones."

He puts two and two together and doesn't much like the answer. "I see."

She curls a little tighter into herself at his tone. "Can't help who you fall in love with."

"Sure, Katie, but I thought you had more taste."

She cocks an eyebrow at him for that, but really? Tony's a damn good investigator, will probably be a great one some day, but he's a hound dog when it comes to women. He's got a good heart, but it's gonna be a long while before he might possibly be ready for the kind of relationship Kate would want.

Gibbs is vaguely disappointed she could've fallen for Tony's superficial charms. Also a bit jealous, if he's honest. Once upon a time, he was a lot like Tony, and seeing Kate end up with a younger, happier version of himself is not an idea he relishes.

He can't really bear the thought of watching them happen right in front of him. He clears his throat and takes a deep breath. "Guess one of ya could move to another team." It's not an idea he's wild about, but it might preserve his sanity, even if it messes up his little family. And he's trying desperately to be a decent human being about this. "That's why you snipe at him so much, right?"

Kate frowns at him, confused. Her mouth opens but nothing comes out.

"What?"

After another few moments, her expression clears. "I... Gibbs, I'm not in love with Tony.

_Well thank fuck for that_. He's never imagined she and McGee would be a match on any level, but it's a more bearable thought than her going for DiNozzo. At least McGee is so unlike him he'll never wonder what could've been. McGee's practically the anti-Gibbs. Which makes Gibbs, clearly, not at all her type.

He tries to reassure himself that this is a good thing.

"Well... maybe McGee could go to cyber crimes or somethin'."

She looks at him like he's totally lost the plot, crushes the paper cup in her hands, and growls. He notices idly that she's picked up a habit or two from him. Secret Service Kate never growled - she just bit.

"What?"

She shakes her head, and pushes herself to her feet. She glares down at him, and he's used to angry women but he usually has more idea of  _why_  they're angry.

"What?"

"How can you be so oblivious, Gibbs? God! I'm not in love with Tony, and I'm not in love with Tim, you idiot." If looks could kill, he'd be a greasy mark on the ground. "I'm in love with you." She turns on her heel and stalks away, and Gibbs is so shocked, so completely blindsided, that for a moment he just stares after her, his jaw on his chest.

Kate's in love with him? It occurs to him, as she storms off, that this seems like something they should really talk about. Gibbs is not one to run after a woman, but his body makes the executive decision to get up and follow her without his conscious mind being part of the process, coffee cup and dignity discarded without a thought.

She's no slowpoke, but he has longer legs than she does, not to mention a desperate need to check he isn't losing his hearing, or possibly his mind, and it doesn't take him long to catch up to her. She glances at him as he draws alongside, and her expression is hopeless.

"I'll have my resignation on your desk in the morning."

"What?!" Okay, he's known for being monosyllabic, but even by his standards, this is getting ridiculous.

"Unless you want to fire me."

He doesn't even manage to voice the 'What?' this time.

"'Pull that crap at NCIS, I won't give you a chance to resign', wasn't it?"

"You can't be-" He's out of breath and he's not sure if it's the running after her or the disbelief or both. "You can't possibly be-" he can't even say it "-with me, Katie, that's absurd."

She's showing no sign whatsoever of slowing down, and between shock and chasing her he's feeling a little discombobulated. He grabs her shoulder and forces her to stop, turn, look at him, then abruptly lets his hand drop to his side when it occurs to him that he really shouldn't be manhandling her like this.

For a few moments they just stand there. Gibbs is panting, cursing every morning he ever stayed in bed an extra thirty minutes instead of going for a run. Kate is looking up at him, her face tight and, besides her obvious discomfort, not giving anything away.

He can't seem to get past the absurdity, the outright ridiculousness of it. "Kate, you can't be-"

She steps in closer to him, her eyes narrowing. "Leroy Jethro Gibbs, if you try and tell me what I can and cannot feel, I will not hesitate to break both your legs," she says evenly.

He clamps his mouth shut. This is Kate, after all. It isn't an idle threat.

She's standing there, glaring at him, daring him to disbelieve or question her, and all he can think about is how much he wants to kiss her, and she might let him, and  _fuck_.

It was a lot easier to ignore his little crush (aka gigantic, embarrassing, deeply inappropriate infatuation) when he was utterly convinced she'd never look twice at him. What the hell he's supposed to do now he's not sure. His brain is stuck on how soft her lips look and how easy it would be to cradle her face in his hands, lean down, brush his mouth over hers. He swallows hard. They stand there looking at one another for what feels like a really long while, and the whole time, his brain is oscillating wildly between all the reasons this would be a really bad idea, and one stark and simple truth: he wants to do it anyway.

Eventually, after several minutes or hours or days, she takes a step backward, out of his personal bubble, and he heaves a half wistful, half relieved sigh.

"I think I should go home," she says.

Gibbs finds himself nodding, then suddenly he's staring at her retreating back, and he doesn't know if she doesn't hear when he calls out her name or if she's just choosing to ignore him.


	2. Chapter 2

He is, he tells himself for the umpteenth time, an idiot of the highest order and a total fool. But nothing stops him, when the workday is finally over, from driving straight to Kate's apartment building, where he spends some considerable time sitting in his car wondering what the hell he thinks he's doing here.

Her empty desk has been shouting at him all afternoon. He had no answer to the questioning looks McGee and DiNozzo were throwing him, and he has no idea what he's gonna say to Kate, how he can possibly fix this. He doesn't know if he can convince her she's wrong, and whatever she's feeling is just a passing fancy or a foolish infatuation or father fixation or some kind of misguided hero worship. (Okay, so the latter seems unlikely, since Kate doesn't appear to see him that way, is typically refreshingly open about his many faults, but he's just trying to make sense of it.)

Worse, he isn't sure he entirely wants to convince her. She is - she must be - crazy or deluded or something, because she's been working with him long enough to know he's an asshole and totally deserves the extra B in his name, but it's been a long time since anyone told him they loved him, longer since they appeared to actually mean it, and longer still since the person saying it was a beautiful young woman who could, he's sure, have her pick. He's weak, and he wants to hold on to the feeling. Even if nothing can ever actually happen, even if he doesn't deserve the sentiment, a selfish part of him wants her to keep on loving him, or at least to continue thinking she does enough to make her eyes go soft and warm when she looks at him.

Eventually, although he still thinks going up to her apartment is a terrible idea, he decides he's not gonna solve anything by sitting outside waiting for a divine revelation, either, and he can't quite bring himself to go home without seeing her. The idea she might follow through, and he might find a letter of resignation on his desk tomorrow morning and no Kate sitting in his eyeline ever again, is worse than whatever she might throw at him if he goes and knocks on her door.

He trudges up the stairs like he's going to his own funeral - hey, it's Kate, so it's possible - and when he finally makes it to her apartment, he stands for another few moments and asks himself if he's entirely lost the plot. His conclusion is yes, he probably has, but he has no idea what he's gonna do if he doesn't do this, and doing nothing is unthinkable. This may be a bad option, but it's the best one he's got.

When he knocks, it takes a while for her to answer, and he almost turns around and walks away. Almost.  _Suck it up, Marine_.

Finally he hears footsteps, and the door opens a few inches. He's proud of her when he realises she's kept the chain on - even though the chance of someone knocking who she couldn't take out with one hand tied behind her back is tiny - proud he's made her more paranoid. He can't help it, even as he recognises how twisted it is.

Her eyes are red-rimmed and wide with surprise, but she takes the chain off and opens the door properly, and her chin is high and her face set when he gets a proper look at her. Her hair is in a messy ponytail, her face scrubbed clean of make up, she's barefoot and wearing sweats, and she's a million miles from the put-together agent he's used to seeing at work.

She's still one of the most beautiful women he's ever seen up close.

"Hi," he says.

"Gibbs." She looks wary and confused. He can't really blame her.

"Thought we maybe should talk," he offers.

He can see the tension in her jaw, in how the corners of her mouth are pinched tightly down. "Okay. Talk."

 _Huh_. Yeah, he maybe should've thought this through a bit further. He fumbles for a moment. "Katie, you can't be-"

She rolls her eyes and interrupts him. "Gibbs, if you're here to tell me why this is a bad idea or how romance between agents never works or rule twelve or... you just don't see me that way or whatever, you can save it. I know. I know, all right? I know. I didn't mean for it to happen, it shouldn't have happened, and I can quit or you can fire me or I can... I don't know, see if there's a vacancy on another team or something. It doesn't matter, okay, and I don't need you to tell me why it can't happen. I've heard it. You've said it a thousand times, I've said it to myself a thousand more. I'm sick of hearing about it." She glares up at him. "And if you try to tell me I'm just some silly girl who doesn't know what she's feeling, I should tell you I have a loaded gun right here."

She looks sad and defeated, despite her defiant words, and it's like a knife between his ribs to know it's his fault.

Her tirade seems to be over. He takes a deep breath. "Can I say somethin' now, Kate?"

She pouts slightly as she looks up at him, and she really needs to quit with that. "Okay."

He pauses.

All right. This would work better if he knew what he wanted to tell her.

Her expression goes from sad to curious to bemused. "What?"

Wasn't that supposed to be his line?

She's looking at him as if she's expecting something. Oh. Yeah. She is. At a loss for anything eloquent or convincing, he just says the first thing that comes into his head. "I don't want you to leave, Katie."

"Oh." Her eyes have gone wide again. He really hopes she doesn't mind him calling her Katie. It keeps slipping out without his permission.

He doesn't know what else he can bring himself to say.  _We'd miss you._ I'd _miss you. I'd never forgive myself for letting you go. I don't have a clue what to do about this, but I can't just stand by and let you walk away_. Yeah, Gibbs has never been good at this whole open and honest communication doohickey. "Please don't leave." It seems like the most important thing, the most honest thing he can manage to get out of his mouth, so it bears repetition.

"Oh," she says again. She frowns up at him, probably trying to figure out how his policy on romantic entanglements jives with this plea. Given he has no idea himself, he kinda hopes she'll work it out and let him know.

Eventually she looks away from him, apparently realising he's all out of words, her forehead creasing. He can almost see her turning it over and over in her head.

He stands there, feeling helpless and useless. He doesn't know what else to do, what else to offer. Not wanting her to leave is not exactly the most convincing argument in favour of her staying around to get her heart trampled on by his size thirteen feet.

Just because he's convinced she's kidding herself, and will one day look back and laugh at her own idiocy, doesn't mean she can make this decision without taking it into account. He knows Kate too well to think otherwise, knows that under the veneer of impenetrability and self-sufficiency there's a woman who's sometimes too close to the girl she once was. Who loves deeply and sincerely and without reservation, and- well, he may not be able to accept she could be  _in_   _love_  with him, but he has no doubt she cares about him and for him. No doubt she would step in front of a bullet for him if she had to, not just because of job or duty, but because that's who she is and how much she cares.

With the prospect of losing her suddenly a very real possibility, he's realising, with an ache, how much he's taken for granted the way she threw herself into a new job, a new life, allowing herself to be moulded and shaped, carving her own spaces and honing her expertise; how she made the role and the team her own until she fit perfectly into her niche. Until the loss of her will leave a ragged, Kate-sized hole in his life that won't readily be filled. If she leaves.

He really, really can't let her leave.

"Kate-" He doesn't mean for his voice to break, and he's almost glad when she interrupts him.

"I just need to ask one thing."

He thinks about it for a moment, then shrugs, bobs his head in agreement.  _Seems reasonable_. "Sure. Go right ahead."

She swallows. "I know you have rule twelve, and romance between coworkers and- you know, you don't want to go there. But I need to know, Gibbs - I mean, if it wasn't an issue..." She shrugs, feigning indifference - badly. "I just need you to be honest with me."

It's his turn to swallow, hard.  _Shit. Shit shit shit_.

"Need to know what, Kate?" Oh, he is pathetic, because it's obvious what she's asking and they both know it, but he just... he needs a little time to get his thoughts in order, okay? To figure it out, to figure out how he feels and how to say it. Because a beautiful woman who claims to love him asking if he also has feelings for her is not, frankly, a common occurrence in his world. And he has a horrible feeling there's a lot riding on it if his answer is the wrong one.

The look she shoots him says she's well aware this is a stalling tactic on his part. If she was less stubborn, she'd shrug it off and make her decision without knowing what she wants to know. If she didn't have balls twice as big as his, she might have mercy on him and throw him a line. But she's Kate, so she stares him down, daring him to blow her off or evade or do anything except be absolutely straight with her.

It hits him suddenly but with painful certainty. He doesn't like this woman or have a crush on her or admire her, but actually, honestly loves her, and it's a revelation he could've done with having at a moment when he had the chance to sit down and process it, not when she's right there, watching him like a hawk. Kate is scared, he knows, scared he might break her. He's pretty damn sure she has no idea how easily she could break him. Hell, he's not sure he fully realised it himself until this very moment.

He looks down at her lips, back up into her eyes, then down again, and something inside him snaps and gives in and gives up, and he no longer gives a single solitary fuck about anything except being as truthful as he's capable of being, and his hands are on her shoulders and he's leaning down and tilting his head and kissing her.

It's not even gentle or soft, he's not easing them into it or allowing her a say, he's kissing her hard and deep and possessive, tasting her, exploring her like he's always wanted to, like they're already lovers, one hand sliding up her neck to cradle her head and hold her close. She should probably knee him in the crotch, but he's delighted she doesn't, and relishes how she responds and the low groan reverberating in his mouth and the fingers clutching at his shirt.

He forces himself to keep it relatively brief, but even so, when he pulls away he's breathing hard, and Kate stands there for a moment with her eyes closed and her mouth open.

"So... I guess now you have... all the facts," he mumbles.

"Oh," she manages, as her eyes flutter open. "Okay." She blinks a few more times, then takes a step backward. For a moment he thinks he's just made the whole thing ten thousand times worse, but then she gives him a small smile. "Maybe you should come in?"


	3. Chapter 3

He's vaguely aware, as he follows her into her apartment, of the warm cream walls and the dark wood bookshelves, the way the place seems homey and welcoming and  _Kate_ , though it also feels like she doesn't spend enough time here to have truly left her mark.

But mostly he's fixated on watching the way her ponytail swings against her neck as she walks and the curve of her jaw as she glances over her shoulder at him, the nervous-scared-excited look on her face as she perches on her couch and watches him sit down beside her.

He's at a loss, blindsided by the kiss, the revelation, the possibilities which have suddenly opened up in front of him, painfully confused because this is  _Kate_  and rule twelve and he doesn't want to lose her from the team but he also wants her in his life (home, bed, heart). And he's terrified, in fact, because realising he's in love with her makes his own conviction she can't possibly be in love with him less of a relief (because it would make him less likely to hurt her) and more like a fear (because she could so very easily hurt him). He still doesn't want to hurt her, but his own bruised and weary heart is more fragile and more vulnerable than he likes to let on.

And he can't take his eyes off of her, and he's wondering exactly how he managed to fool himself for so long. Just a crush? Just an infatuation? Just a bright, attractive young woman? Oh, for fuck's sake, he was so stupid, and it seems so obvious now.

He's always known he wanted Kate around, wanted the quick tongue which pinned him down on Air Force One and told him he'd failed in his subterfuge; her sharp eyes, the way she was so proud, so haughty, so absolutely sure of herself despite how he undercut her and taunted her and outright told her she didn't have the first idea what she was doing. Wanted to see what she could do and be, given the chance. He told himself he wanted to see her reach her full potential, and goddamnit, he did, he  _does_ , but he also wants to touch her, kiss her, hold her. Keep her safe and warm, stand by her side, keep the world at bay when she needs it. And he has it really bad for her, because suddenly he's gone all poetic and sentimental and ugh. He is in so much trouble here.

Kate's looking at him warily, curiosity in her eyes, a shy, uncertain smile on her lips. "Gibbs?"

Poor girl. He's been trying to tell her she can't be in love, and the moment she turned the question back on him, he lost control and kissed her like he was going off to war.

No wonder she's confused. He sure as fuck is.

He reaches out to touch her face, and her smile widens. He can't help grinning inanely back, apparently having lost his brain sometime this evening. Possibly in her mouth. "Katie."

Her cheeks turn pink. "You never usually call me that."

"D'ya mind? Does it bother you?"

She shakes her head. "No."

They sit there grinning at each other like total idiots for a couple more minutes. "So."

"That was some kiss, Gibbs." She raises an eyebrow, the corners of her mouth showing her amusement. Given the events of the last ten minutes, he's willing to overlook her laughing at him.

Plus, it was a helluva kiss. "Yeah," he breathes.

Her knee is jiggling - a nervous twitch, he assumes. He wants to still it with his hand, but counsels himself sternly about inappropriate touching - then does his best to ignore how the devil on his shoulder is leering and saying, 'Plenty of time for that later.' Much as he'd like to just kiss her again and let nature take its course, it seems like they should probably talk first. If he can figure out what to say.

She sighs - probably at his continued inability to put a sentence together - and gives him an assessing look. "You kissed me."

He nods. He remembers. He doesn't think he'll ever forget.

"So does that mean...?"

It's not exactly surprising Kate wants to pin this down, figure it out. She's not the kind of person who dates casually or kisses just anyone, and it's only a few hours since she told him she loves him. Unfortunately, none of this magically makes Gibbs into an eloquent man who can express his emotions fluently and accurately.

What he actually manages is 'Uh', which isn't good even by his own very low standards.

Kate shakes her head, though she's smiling.

He tries again. "It means... I think..." Oh, good God. It's embarrassing. "I really like you, Kate," is what finally tumbles out, all in a rush, like he's fifteen all over again. As if he'll chicken out if he doesn't say it quickly. (Which might well be true.)

Her smile softens, and she reaches out and lets her fingers rest on his cheek, lets her thumb touch his bottom lip. "I really like you too, Gibbs."

He gulps at the tenderness of it. "You said." That earns him a  _look_ , and he hurries to correct himself. "I mean- Kate, why? I don't..." He shakes his head. "I don't understand. And I don't wanna... if this is just..."  _Finish a damn sentence, man_. He searches her expression, though he's not sure what for. "I can't do this if it's just a fling, Kate. Just a... I'm no good at this." He sighs. "Why'd you want me?"

She moves closer, and now both her hands are on his face. "Gibbs..." She takes a deep breath. "Jethro."

He has to swallow. She's never called him by his given name before, unless he counts the times she's barked his full name in annoyance. (He really doesn't.) Something about the way she says it (and the way she's touching him, the way her face is mere inches from his) has his heart trying to leap up his throat and choke him. "Yeah?"

After a few more seconds of looking at him with such intensity it's like she's reading his mind, she smiles. "I love you."

She says it quietly but firmly, as if the simple statement cancels out any other worry or concern or uncertainty, then she's leaning in to kiss him. Her lips are smooth and warm, her tongue gentle but insistent, and he can't help the moan, can't stop himself from pulling her closer, into his lap.

It's tender and soft and achingly seductive, and he sinks into the wonder of her mouth on his.

When they resurface, he sits for a few moments, his eyes closed, and tries not to let the top of his head fall off.

He just kissed Kate Todd - or rather, she just kissed him - and much as he enjoyed their first kiss, the second seems to have reached into his brain and loosened some vital nuts and bolts. He's sure he's never gonna be the same ever again.

When he finally manages to open his eyes, hers are on his and filled with joyful merriment. She's clearly altogether delighted with the effect she's had on him. "I love you," she says again, and though he can't help the scepticism, it's more difficult to dismiss now. More difficult to discount the passion he never thought he'd be able to provoke in her, or the obvious happiness in her eyes.

He clears his throat and opens his mouth, but he doesn't have words to express himself or ask her the right questions or... anything.

He never meant to find himself in this position again, thought he'd gotten better at insulating himself from unruly emotions. He can't figure out how Kate snuck through his defences despite his best efforts.

"I think you love me, too." She smiles softly. "Don't you?"

He gapes at her a bit more. Apparently it's taken her considerably less time to get to this revelation than it took him, which seems unfair.

She waits patiently, her head tilted on one side and her eyebrows raised inquisitively. He reaches out to touch her cheek, then to tug at her ponytail until her hair falls in dark waves around her face and over his hand.

It's as soft and silky as he's always imagined. He twists a lock of it around his hand and rubs it with his thumb, and it's so shiny smooth. He combs his fingers through it, lets his fingertips skim lightly over her scalp, laughs in disbelief at how his touch makes her eyelids flicker. Then, despite his common sense telling him he's a fool, he allows himself to gently cradle her head and pull her closer.

"You're beautiful," he murmurs, and her eyes crinkle as she smiles again.

"You still haven't answered my question, Gibbs." She says it lightly, but there's an undercurrent of need in her voice. "Do you love me?"

He gazes at her face, taking in every detail. He's half expecting this to be some cruelly wonderful dream. His subconscious seems to have an evil sense of humour, and it would be just his luck to realise he loves her and wake up to find only that one revelation was true.

"Yeah," he whispers finally, defeated and overcome and unable to deny it any longer. "Yeah, I do."

"Good."

She curls down against him, and it's the most natural thing in the world for him to wrap his arms around her. She's warm and real in his lap, he can tip his head down and press his mouth and nose into her hair, he can feel her breathing and her heartbeat. She smells sweet and fresh, and he fills his lungs with her scent. "I love you, Katie."

She chuckles. "I know."

He rolls his eyes.  _Shoulda seen that comin'_. "Cheeky." He can't keep his own amusement - or his own happiness - out of his voice.

For quite some time they simply sit together in quiet contentment. It's warm and tender and really quite incredible, but Gibbs still can't shake the fear, the expectation, of the other shoe dropping. He's more scared than he'd like to admit about saying or doing the wrong thing, breaking the spell. It just seems so unlikely. What if she realises she's making a horrible mistake? How will he cope?

Almost as if she's read his mind and wants to reassure him, she presses a kiss to the hollow at the base of his throat, then he moans because her tongue flicks out to taste his skin and  _God_. Okay, he's not certain he's gonna cope either way.

She looks up at him, a mischievous grin on her face. Yeah, he's in trouble so deep he wouldn't be able to find his way out with a map and a compass - assuming he even wanted to.

He clears his throat. "So what do we do now?"

"I have a few ideas."

Her frankly lascivious tone makes him laugh aloud. "Y'know, not really what I meant, but don't count me out."

She props herself up against his chest with one hand, studying him again. "Do you mean work things?"

He nods. "I have rules for a reason, Katie. And if we're gonna do this... I don't wanna disrupt everything for just..."

She blinks slowly at him. "What part of 'I love you' are you having trouble with, Gibbs?"

_Well, there's a question_. He pulls a face. "All of it?" It may be too much, but he doesn't know how else to tackle the situation except by being honest.

He can see the response hit her and hurt her, and this is exactly why he should be running for the hills. If not for his own sake, then for hers.

If he was a better man, he would never have allowed any of this, would've protected her better. But he isn't and he didn't and so now they have to work with what's real, not what's ideal. It's a little late for a tactical retreat.

"Kate, it's not you, it's just..." He shakes his head. "Look at you. Why the hell d'ya want me?"

Her jaw tightens and she shakes her head. "Is there something else as well, or is it just that?"

"You mean, besides the fact I'm a workaholic bastard who's really bad at this kinda thing?"

It gets a tiny smile out of her. "Yeah, besides that, too."

He looks away from her, to give himself a chance to think straight. There are lots of potential 'things' to derail this, but if Kate really loves him?

Without any real intent on his part, his hands trace up her ribcage, and he can't help but smile at the murmur of pleasure it elicits. He has his hands on her body and he's still finding it hard to believe this is real. But if it is...

He lets his eyes close, gives in for a moment to the idea, the image of Kate in his life, properly in his life. Of cooking steak for her over the fire. Having her in the corner of his basement, reading or drawing as he works on his boat. Laughing and fighting and making up with her. Kate in his bed at the end of the day. All the simple pleasures, so easy to take for granted until they get taken away.

The picture his imagination paints for him is a version of life he long since gave up on ever having again. He doesn't even know if he's capable of it any more, but she makes him want to try, which is both intoxicating and terrifying. He nuzzles into the top of her shoulder, buries his nose in her skin and breathes in deeply, trying to imprint the moment on his brain.

A quiet whimper of what sounds very much like need trembles out of her, and he smiles even as he kisses his way up her neck. "I don't wanna hurt you, Katie." It's a whispered confession in her ear.

She laughs softly, rubs her fingers affectionately through the short hair at the base of his skull. "I don't want to hurt you either, Jethro." He can't help or disguise the way his breath catches when she uses his name. "But I also don't want to spend the rest of my life thinking 'what if?' or 'if only.'" She shakes her head. "I'm tired of regrets."

He wants to believe her. And if this is real, if Kate truly loves him... there's no question. He'll fight tooth and nail to keep hold of it.

With a couple of fingers, he tilts her head up until he can look her full in the face. She meets his gaze head on and unflinching, and her eyes are warm. If he's sure of anything in this scenario, it's that she means every word. However difficult he finds it to accept, however much he fears she's fooling herself, she is completely sincere.

"So." She cocks an eyebrow at him. "Is there something else? Besides finding it difficult to believe me?"

He lets the idea roll around in his head a little more. He could find lots of reasons to be a coward and back down from this, but none of them are very convincing. Not if she loves him.

He shakes his head. "Just that."

She smiles slowly, happiness and relief and... mischief? She pulls herself closer in, until she's sitting very firmly and  _very_  intimately in his lap, and when she speaks again her voice is smoke and honey. "Well. Good. Because you know what, Gibbs, I think I can help you with that."


	4. Chapter 4

He has to admit, as far as arguments go, Kate grinding down into his lap and sucking on the side of his neck definitely has significant merit. It's probably just as well she's trying to convince him, not the other way around. He can't think, can barely breathe, can't do anything but accept and enjoy and wonder, in some distant part of his head, exactly how he got so damn lucky.

The same distant island of thought is also sceptical Kate's enthusiasm is gonna last. He takes care of himself, has to in order to survive this job, but he's definitely... older than the men he's seen her with.

She's not stupid, she must realise, and he wants to believe she's not shallow enough to care - but but but...

She pushes his shirt out of the way to bite the muscle at the top of his shoulder, and for what seems like an age all rational thought is drowned out by the Hallelujah Chorus happening in his head. He lets out a sound the uncharitable listener might describe as a whimper.

Then she's sitting up and giving him a wicked, wicked grin, and then,  _then_  she's peeling her own top off, and he gulps. Kate was damn near irresistible in her workout clothes; discovering she's wearing nothing under them but her underwear is... "Jesus, Katie."

She laughs and leans in to kiss him again, and he can't help but touch her, let his hands trace his desire all over her skin. He digs his fingers into her back and pulls her even closer, and it's so good he forgets to be concerned when she starts tugging impatiently at his clothing again.

Apparently Kate's motto when she's stripping a man is 'ruthless efficiency'. His shirt is quickly flung aside, and her hands,  _Kate's_  hands, are caressing his shoulders and his back, running up into his hair, cradling his face, and her voice is soft and seductive in his ear. He misses at least half of what she's murmuring, but it's full of warmth and promise, full of words like 'gorgeous' and 'want' and 'love'.

Self-consciousness returns for a moment as she peels his undershirt up and over his head, but only until Kate's pressing herself into him with a sigh of pleasure. She cups his jaw with one hand, runs the fingernails of the other lightly, seductively down his side.

He feels her teeth on his earlobe for a moment. "Believe me yet?"

The only response he can muster is a groan, but she nuzzles a laugh into his skin, apparently satisfied.

God, there's just so much half-naked Kate in his lap, and he hardly knows what to do with himself, where to touch her first. She's just so... so... "Oh God, Katie." He can't get over it. He kisses her throat, then bends to kiss between her breasts as his hand moves over the silky fabric of her bra. She moans and presses down harder into his lap, and he's almost having an out of body experience here.

He fumbles with the fastening of her bra with his other hand. She laughs huskily and reaches back to undo the clasp herself. She lets him remove it, just watching his face as he peels it off of her body, then he's letting his gaze drift down over her, swallowing hard.

If she was beautiful in the scruffy clothing she'd obviously chosen for its comfort as she tended to this afternoon's wounds, he doesn't have the words for how she looks now.

He touches her with something akin to reverence, cupping her breasts in his hands, shaking his head in wonder at the way her breathing stutters, at the needy mewl she makes when he tugs lightly on her nipples. He glances up at her face with a smile, only to find she has her eyes closed and she's biting her lip as if she's barely stopping herself from swearing. He leans down to take a nipple into his mouth, her head rolls back, and she makes a sound he never imagined he'd be able to coax from her.

She feels and tastes so good under his hands and tongue, and she's squirming in his lap as he touches and kisses her, and he's torn between thinking this  _must_  be some particularly magnificent dream and doubting his imagination could conjure up anything so incredible.

It would be no hardship to spend all night here, but he wants to swallow and savour the noises she's making. Sitting up again, he cups her face and finds her lips with his, injecting all the passion he's been harbouring for so long into it, and he feels her smile into the kiss. Her skin is against his, her hands grasping at him, her body all but screaming she wants him just as much as he wants her. When they come up for air, they're both breathing hard, and Gibbs is still half convinced this  _cannot_  be real.

"God, Katie. 'M I dreamin' or somethin'?"

"You're really, really not, Gibbs." She grins, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Shall I prove it to you?"

He nods eagerly. He's not sure how she plans to prove it, but he's excited to find out.

She shuffles back off of his lap to stand up, and he doesn't know what to hope for. Then her hands slip into the sides of her sweatpants, and she grins as she slides them down her legs. She steps out of them, and she's standing in front of him, wearing nothing but black satin panties and a smile and he has to take a moment to catch his breath.

"Thought I should leave something for you to do," she says.

The devil on his shoulder is back, and he grins. He pulls her forward, between his legs, his hands on her hips, leans in to kiss and nibble her stomach. She laughs breathlessly when his mouth moves to her thigh, whimpers and shudders when his fingers move between her legs. He kisses her lower down, and groans when he realises he can both feel and smell her arousal.

"Believe me now?" Her voice is rough and full of want.

"Gettin' there." He looks up at her even as he tastes her through the thin fabric of her panties.

She flutters her eyelashes at him winsomely. And mischievously. "Well, Gibbs, what else can I do to convince you?"

He stands up slowly, runs his hands down her back, and lets his voice grow dark and full of promise. "I got a few ideas but I think they'd work better on a bed."

_~ fin ~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel sorta bad for finishing this... _there_... but it's been over a year and my supposed chapter 5 is still a series of disconnected jumble that goes absolutely nowhere. I think this story wants to be four chapters long ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ feel free to imagine your own ending ;p
> 
> If inspiration ever hits for another chapter, rest assured that AO3 will be the first to know. In the meantime, this is complete.


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